


It's a Craft

by Eff_Dragonkiller



Series: 2019 Fluff Bingo [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Gen, Good Peter Hale, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski Knows, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 01:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20165629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eff_Dragonkiller/pseuds/Eff_Dragonkiller
Summary: "It's not like I can make a living selling magic, can I?"





	It's a Craft

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for the 2019 Fluff Bingo Challenge on the Just Write! Discord Server. 
> 
> The prompt was for Crafting.
> 
> I didn't set this in a particular place. Just, there probably wasn't a Nogitsune.

Peter slid into the seat across from Stiles at the dining room table. The table designed to fit ten was buried under a mound of magical debris. "What's all of this?"

Stiles grimaced, "There was a case of pixies last week, right?"

"Yes," Peter resisted the urge to frown. "My laundry still smells like smoke."

"Oh, man." The teen fumbled through his mess, "You should have said something."

Peter was handed a sachet that smelt vaguely of lemon. "A spell bag?"

"Ha! For cleanliness, right?" Stiles said giddily, "but in this form, it just cleans the air. Good for allergies, asthma, and sensitive noses."

Peter fingered the small cloth bag, already breathing easier and thinking idly of the profit margin on a Spark's hedgecraft. "How big an area could this do?"

Stiles shrugged, "Not that big. Just the immediate area. But we could make masks if necessary."

"What are you planning on doing after you graduate, Stiles?"

"What?" The teen jerked his head up to stare at the zombie wolf. "Why?"

Peter gave him a dry look, "humor me."

Stiles ducked his head and gave a shrug, "I always figured I'd follow my dad into police work, but with my record, no one would accept me and I certainly can’t serve in this town."

The problem with solving supernatural problems was that they often required creative and legally-grey solutions. Or just flat illegal ones. Stiles was practical enough to do what was required but honest enough that hacking his record just to get into a police academy would be too much.

"You're not thinking about college?" Peter asked idly. "You're very smart, Stiles."

"Yeah, but I'm not particularly conventional," Stiles offered with a smirk. "If I went into the police academy, I'd have eventually gotten a degree, but probably not anymore."

"So, what are you thinking?"

Stiles huffed, finally giving up on the sigil he was drawing. He gave a wave at the arrayed supplies, "I don't know. It's not like I can make a living selling magic, can I?"

Peter let a dangerous smirk curl the edges of his mouth as he leaned forward into his packmates space. "As a matter of fact, you can."

He already had a business selling hard to find items of supernatural origin. It wasn't that much work to add Stiles to the business. It was different, of course. Usually, Peter waited for his clients to reach out with a request. Now he planned on sending a list of available magical items for purchase. But they should see a good increase in profit.

Now, it was just a question of whether Stiles could pull it off.

Stiles smirked at Peter, "So your client -"

"Our Client, Stiles."

"Fine. Fine. ‘Our client’ wants a removable exorcism circle?"

Peter gestured to the printouts, "I gave you her specifications."

Stiles nibbled on a pen as he read through the client's wish list. "This is kind of brilliant. Of course, it would also be more powerful if she did it herself."

Peter snorted, "I promise, there's no way that this witch can gather even a percentage of the power you have in your little toe. Paying for you to do it – that will get her the most powerful product."

Stiles tapped his pen on the desk. "This is going to take time and research."

"Take it. We'll get a reputation for expensive but thorough. It wouldn't be the worst thing to ever happen."

"Right." Stiles let out a deep breath. "I'll- I'll get working on it soon."

Peter wrapped a hand around the back of the teen's neck, bringing him close to scent. "Don't put it ahead of your schoolwork. She said it's not urgent, so there's no reason to keep you up until dawn researching."

"Okay." Stiles agreed and Peter nodded with a bemused smile.

There was no way Stiles wouldn't get started the very moment Peter walked out the door. In fact, the wolf could already tell he'd lost his packmate's attention.

"Good Luck," Peter snorted as he left Stiles to the challenge he'd placed before him.

Peter was pretty damn pleased to be able to drop the check off at the Stilinski's when the money came in. In fact, he handed it right into Stiles's hand when he opened the door.

"What's this?" The teen asked as Peter made himself at home on the sofa across from the Sheriff.

"John. Is this the Mariner's game?"

"Peter. Peter, what is this?! Peter!"

"Peter." John offered the younger man a smirk that was much familiar on his son's face. "What's got Stiles in such a tizzy?"

"Sit down, Stiles." Peter grabbed a flailing hand and dragged the teen down on the couch with him. "Did you tell your father that I hired you to do some work for me?"

John snorted, "I don't know what he told you, but my kid should not be trusted around construction equipment."

"No. Nothing like that." Peter grinned, "I own a business. It's something like antiquing; clients approach me looking for a particular item or something with certain characteristics and I find it for them."

John frowned, "Magic things?"

"Yes."

"And Stiles is helping you find things?"

Perhaps it would have been easier to let John continue to assume that, but Peter liked that there was one adult in the screwed up supernatural situation in Beacon Hills that didn't doubt his word. Of course, both Stilinski's knew when he was lying like they could hear his heartbeat - except, of course, that Peter knew how to hide that - and weren't afraid to call him on it. He didn't want to hide anything from John.

"No. Stiles crafted some magical artifacts I sold on." The Wolf shrugged casually. "I was pleased to bring the check by in time for pizza night."

John nodded slowly before turning his attention to his son, who was practically vibrating out of his skin. "Well, what did you make, son?"

"A thousand dollars!" Stiles burst, up and pacing. "We did- I didn't- Gah! It was ink! We didn’t even use fancy fabric!"

"And time." Peter rebutted. "And skill, a steady hand, and the privilege of the energy of a Spark. I saw it, Stiles, unless that woman tries using it for some pretty awful shit, that floor mat will last forever. That's practically priceless." He shrugged with a smirk, "So, I made her pay for it."

John looked startled, "You can make that much selling magic?"

"There's money to be made in magic, yes." Peter cautiously agreed. "But there are a lot of caveats too. Stiles has the benefit of an established network to start with and my reputation of telling hacks to go fuck themselves."

John snorted and Stiles just squinted at him.

"What am I paying you, for the privilege of using your network?"

Peter smirked, "Maybe you should have thought of that before you agreed to work with me."

"Peter!"

He smiled genuinely at Stiles's irritation. "Relax, Sweetheart. You've got the lion share. I took a percentage off the top as my finder's fee and filed taxes for you."

Stiles collapsed back onto the couch like his strings had been cut, snuggling down under the wolf's arm. "This could maybe actually work, huh?"

"Yes." Peter wrapped his arm around the teenager. "This will work."


End file.
